Balancing Humility — Bo 5781

Transitions of power don't come around that often, even in the United States, but when they do they offer us a chance to reflect on an important topic, one that seems particularly relevant this week as a new President is sworn in at the U.S. Capitol building in Washington, D.C.

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This week, Donald Trump is on his way out, and Joe Biden on his way in to the White House in Washington, D.C. It’s a transition of power that doesn’t ever happen smoothly, or easily. In 2001, as George W. Bush and staff moved into the West Wing, they found keyboards with the letter W removed, a small protest over the way President Bush won the presidential election of 2000, by convincing the Supreme Court to stop a vote recount then underway in Florida, sticking with the existing total and pushing the critical swing state into Bush’s column. At the time, it was among the most divisive presidential elections and transitions in American history.

The Torah this week finds Moses and Aaron arriving to treat with Pharaoh. They are sent by G-d, who has already hardened Pharaoh’s heart in advance of their meeting, so any supplication by Moses is guaranteed to be met with firm denial. Even knowing the outcome as they do, Moses and Aaron stand before Pharaoh. When Pharaoh refuses, once again, to free the Hebrews, Moses challenges him with a simple question.

Exodus 10:1

Then the LORD said to Moses, “Go to Pharaoh. For I have hardened his heart and the hearts of his courtiers, in order that I may display these My signs among them,

and that you may recount in the hearing of your sons and of your sons’ sons how I made a mockery of the Egyptians and how I displayed My signs among them—in order that you may know that I am the LORD.”

So Moses and Aaron went to Pharaoh and said to him, “Thus says the LORD, the God of the Hebrews, ‘How long will you refuse to humble yourself before Me? Let My people go that they may worship Me.

Pharaoh’s reaction isn’t entirely his fault, after all G-d hardened his heart to provoke this exact reaction, but Moses’s question isn’t really about Pharaoh’s reaction to his request, it’s about what’s at the root of Pharaoh’s reaction. There’s really no reason to expect that Pharaoh will hear Moses’s request calmly and fairly. Even if G-d hadn’t handed Pharaoh’s heart Moses would still have been asking Pharaoh to free a huge number of slaves, cheap labor that was critical to the empire’s growth and development.

Pharaohs’ response, though, betrays not only his unwillingness to part with the Hebrew slaves, but with his unwillingness to recognize and accept that there are bigger players in the world than him, that something could possibly exist—on either a spiritual or physical plan—which was superior to the might of Pharaoh, god-king of the Egyptian people.

Humility is what underpins the traditionally peaceful transition of power in the Untied States, the humility of outgoing leaders to make space for incoming presidents, the humility of losers to accept defeat graciously and put country above power, party, ideology, and ambition. Humility is what drove George Herbert Walker Bush to welcome Bill Clinton to the White House, and joyfully attend the inauguration of the man who had beat him at the polls only a few weeks earlier. To be clear, the first President Bush didn’t humble himself before President Clinton, he humbled himself before the Office of the President, and the fragile civic traditions that are so important to American life. He humbled himself in the face of something greater than himself, just as Moses challenges Pharaoh to humble himself in the face of G-d, not Moses.

The truth, though, is that such moments of raw humility are rare, especially in politics today. G-d’s intention in hardening Pharaoh’s heart so he rejects Moses’s request is meant to set the stage for G-d to demonstrate G-d’s power through fire, brimstone, pestilence, darkness, take your pick and it rained down on the Egyptians, all as a means of demonstrating G-d’s power so that Pharaoh will finally humble himself, and free the Hebrews. Of course, it didn’t work, and Pharaoh’s army ends up getting drowned as they chase the fleeing Israelites across the Red Sea.

Pharaoh, though, had the power to stop this right from the beginning, and he retains that power throughout the story of the Exodus, which dominates our Torah portions for the next few weeks. Once or twice he decides to free the Israelites, but he always changes his mind, and refuses the Israelites their freedom at the last minute.

Humility isn’t a fleeting choice, it’s one that must continue to be made over and over again. Every moment of every day provides opportunities to step in or step back, opportunities to practice humility, which we desperately need more of these days.

But, just as one can have too little humility, one can have too much humility. In a passage questioning why the Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed, Rav Yochanan quotes a verse from Proverbs, “Happy is the man who fears always, but he who hardens his heart shall fall into mischief.”

The Gemara explains:

Jerusalem was destroyed on account of Kamtza and bar Kamtza. This is as there was a certain man whose friend was named Kamtza and whose enemy was named bar Kamtza. He once made a large feast and said to his servant: Go bring me my friend Kamtza. The servant went and mistakenly brought him his enemy bar Kamtza. 18 The man who was hosting the feast came and found bar Kamtza sitting at the feast.

The host said to bar Kamtza. “That man is the enemy of that man, that is, you are my enemy. What then do you want here? Arise and leave.”

Bar Kamtza said to him: “Since I have already come, let me stay and I will give you money for whatever I eat and drink. Just do not embarrass me by sending me out.”

The host said to him: “No, you must leave.”

Bar Kamtza said to him: “I will give you money for half of the feast; just do not send me away.”

The host said to him: “No, you must leave.”

Bar Kamtza then said to him: “I will give you money for the entire feast; just let me stay.”

The host said to him: “No, you must leave.” Finally, the host took bar Kamtza by his hand, stood him up, and took him out.

After having been cast out from the feast, bar Kamtza said to himself: “Since the Sages were sitting there and did not protest the actions of the host, although they saw how he humiliated me, learn from it that they were content with what he did. I will therefore go and inform against them to the king.”

He went and said to the emperor: “The Jews have rebelled against you.”

The emperor said to him: “Who says that this is the case?”

Bar Kamtza said to him: “Go and test them; send them an offering to be brought in honor of the government, and see whether they will sacrifice it.”

The emperor went and sent with Bar Kamtza a choice three-year-old calf. While he was coming with the calf to the Temple, Bar Kamtza made a blemish on the calf’s upper lip. And some say he made the blemish on its eyelids, a place where according to halakha, it is a blemish, but according to Roman rules for their offerings, it is not a blemish.

Therefore, when bar Kamtza brought the animal to the Temple, the priests would not sacrifice it on the altar since it was blemished, but they also could not explain this satisfactorily to the gentile authorities, who did not consider it to be blemished.

The blemish notwithstanding, the Sages thought to sacrifice the animal as an offering due to the imperative to maintain peace with the government. Rabbi Zekharya ben Avkolas said to them: “If the priests do that, people will say that blemished animals may be sacrificed as offerings on the altar.”

The Sages said: “If we do not sacrifice it, then we must prevent bar Kamtza from reporting this to the emperor.”

The Sages thought to kill him so that he would not go and speak against them. Rabbi Zekharya said to them: “If you kill him, people will say that one who makes a blemish on sacrificial animals is to be killed.”

As a result, they did nothing, bar Kamtza’s slander was accepted by the authorities, and consequently the war between the Jews and the Romans began. Rabbi Yoḥanan says: “The excessive humility of Rabbi Zekharya ben Avkolas destroyed our Temple, burned our Sanctuary, and exiled us from our land.”

Sure, Rabbi Avkolas shares a portion of the blame for encouraging his colleagues to go along with Bar Kamtza’s ruse, even knowing the political ramifications this might have. Rabbi Yochanah seem content, in the end, to blame Avkolas and his lack of humility for Second Temple’s destruction, but an argument could just as easily be made that it was bar Kamtza’s lack of humility in the original argument which created the situation, or of whomever hosted the original dinner party, or of the Sages in attendance who didn’t stand up and speak out on behalf of bar Kamtza.

In any event, a lack of humility was evident, and more than one person had the opportunity to speak up and speak out.

So I’ll leave you this week, with a favorite line of mine from this week’s Torah portion, one I never noticed until now, but which seems particularly relevant to this the world this week.

Pharaoh’s advisors said to him, “How long shall this Moses be a snare to us? Let the men go to worship the LORD their God! Are you not yet aware that Egypt is lost?”

Shabbat shalom